As I Breathe My Last
by Psychedelica
Summary: "I wish you could see me, Rose. Sat in a diner in the USA, scribbling messily on napkins and menus and whatever else I can find." As he prepares himself to face his final execution, the Doctor writes a note to the one he lost. Full summary inside.


**Disclaimer: **Me no owny! If I owned _Doctor Who_, d'you seriously think this would JUST be a story?**  
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**Title: **_As I Breathe My Last_

**Author: **Psychedelica

**Start/End: **24th September 2011, 10.33pm – 11.57pm, corrections 25th Sep 8.54am – 8.57am, typed onto computer 29th Sep 6.08pm – 7.49pm with distractions ;)

**Fandom: **_Doctor Who_ (W00T!)

**Summary: **"_I wish you could see me now, Rose. Sat in a diner in the good old US of A, scribbling messily on napkins and menus and whatever else I can find." _As he prepares himself to face his final execution, the Doctor does what he does best: thinks of Rose and how he lost her. This time, though, he writes it all down in the vain hope that she might one day find the message.

**Set: **After 6x12, _Closing Time_. Before 6x01, _The Impossible Astronaut_. I know it's a bit confuddling, but y'know . . . wibbly wobbly timey wimey and all that.

**Characters: **Uh, kinda Eleven, kinda Rose. Mentions Metacrisis (TenII), Amy, Rory, River, Craig, and a load of Ten's companions and friends and stuff.

**Pairings:** Ten/Eleven/Rose, mentions Metacrisis/Rose and River/Eleven. Doctor/Rose is unashamedly my OTP though 3

**Genre: **Angst/Romance

**This is in honour on tonight's episode. I literally CANNOT wait!  
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**On with the story!**

_Dear Rose, if ever you may find this,_

I'm going to die today.

Oh, don't be like that. We knew it was going to come someday, didn't we? But so soon?

It's been two centuries since I last saw that pretty face of yours. You probably don't remember me then. New Year's, 2005. I was regenerating. You thought I was drunk. I didn't cry, Rose. I thought I would, but I didn't. I cried later, when I was changing. I cried before that. I cried after that. I cry most nights. Bet you didn't know that, did you?

Such a human thing to do.

Is that what I am now? Human? Over a millennium of hanging around with you apes, I've almost become one.

But despite being so tediously human, I didn't cry on that New Year's. No, I smiled. You made me smile, Rose. Through all that darkness, you were my beacon of hope.

I am going to die. For good this time. No regenerating. No New-New Doctor.

Just a memory.

_Remember me._

Rose.

Rose, are you happy?

It seems such a trivial, _human_ question to ask, but:

Are you happy?

Do I – does the Metacrisis – make you happy?

I dreamt of marrying you once. It was a beautiful dream, and ended too soon, and then we rushed off to what we thought was Sixties' America. Remember that, Rose? Turned out to be the good old UK, circa early fifties. Remember? With the Wire? And the faces?

Of course you remember.

Two hundred years of running and flying and laughing and shouting, and I still remember.

I hope the new me hasn't made you forget.

I wish you could see me now, Rose. Sat in a diner in the good old US of A, scribbling messily on napkins and menus and whatever else I can find. The waitress is giving me a dirty look.

It was spontaneous, this, to say the least. Writing a letter that will never be read. Even if someone does find this, you're gone. You'll never read this, Rose.

I've changed a lot since you last saw me. My hair's still brown, but it's longer now. And I'm younger. Someone called me 'baby-face' the other day. You'd like my chin. My chin made the TARDIS laugh. Long story. The TARDIS got ripped out of her console and forced into a human vessel. You'd have liked her. She was fun. But she died, and her essence returned to its home.

I wear a tweed jacket and a bow-tie now. Oh, and a Stetson. Stetsons are cool. I used to have a fez but River blew it up. I'll never properly forgive her for that. Anyway, my friend Craig gave the Stetson to me when he heard I was going to America.

Craig was the last friend I visited before

I've invited some people to witness my death. I know it sounds gruesome, but you'd understand, Rose, if you were here.

I invited my friends Amy and Rory. In their timeline, I think they're a happily married couple. They'll have a baby soon. Don't tell Amy, but she'll already be pregnant!

I know, I know. I've been travelling with a married couple. You're laughing now, aren't you? But the only reason I was reluctant to have Mickey, Jack and that other bloke – Adam, was it? – was because I'm selfish when it comes to you. I don't want anyone else to have you, Rose. Even though you're technically with 'me' at the moment, I still feel . . .

_Jealous._

Don't look at me like that. I'm going to die today, Rose. I deserve to be selfish.

I also invited River Song, who I met in my old body when I was travelling with Donna. We have a History now, with a capital 'H' for extra vavavoom. Turns out she's really Amy and Rory's daughter, Melody Pond, who – long story short – has been trained to kill me from birth, and does. She is the woman who kills the Doctor, and is imprisoned because of it. And later, the first time I meet her and the last time she meets me, she sacrifices herself to save my life.

As I said.

Complicated.

But I don't love her, Rose.

I've kissed her, Rose. I'm honest enough to admit that. But even though you're technically 'dead', even though we'll never see each other alive again, even though you're probably happily married with three kids by now, I still feel unfaithful.

Rose, it's not true.

I don't love her.

I love

I've been thinking about you recently, Rose. Dying man and all that. I was thinking about all those other times I've 'died'. The deaths I came back from.

Practice deaths?

Practice for what? _This?_

Our first proper kiss. You were dying. I saved you, but died instead. I talked to you then. You were scared. I told you about Barcelona. We never did go, did we?

Or did we?

Two hundred years, Rose.

Two centuries.

I miss you.

I may have forgotten the minor details, but I remember the important things.

The way you'd stick your tongue between your teeth when you smiled. The way you made me feel two inches tall when you were angry. The exact words you said to me, the number of tears you cried, the shade of lipstick you were wearing on Bad Wolf Bay. Worst mistake of my life, taking that long to respond. I'm sorry, Rose. I'm

I thought of you then. As I was changing from the leather-clad Northern me to the skinny pinstriped one, you were on my mind.

We got into a lot of tricky situations, didn't we? I honestly thought I was going to die in that pit holding the Devil, or whatever that thing was. I loved you before, Rose, in the same way I loved Sarah Jane, in the same way I now love Amy and sort of Rory (in a manly, completely heterosexual way). But it was in that moment, in which I thought I might very well die, that I first realised.

You left then. Not on purpose, obviously. I was a changed man. Donna saved me, and then Martha, and then Donna again. Without them I'd've surely died sooner.

I nearly died a number of times in those years. Then you came back and I died again. I was thinking of you then, Rose. You were the last face I saw before I

But I changed back into myself, Rose. Because of you. Always because of you. You didn't want me to change, did you? And so I didn't. Not then at least.

After I left you and . . . him on Bad Wolf Bay, I lost Donna. She's alive, don't worry! Lovely husband, name of Shaun Temple or something like that. Such a long time ago.

But that shook me. Losing her. I had to wipe all her memories of me. And it hit me. Everyone was happy. Everyone was together. Did you know Mickey got married to Martha? But I was alone. A madman with a box. I lose everyone I travel with, but it's no fun travelling alone.

I was depressed then, Rose. I needed you. Needed your smile, your hand in mine. Some people would have called it a midlife crisis, but that implies I'll live to be 1800.

I died. Stupidly. Saving the life of some stupid, gullible, loyal, brave, wonderful man. And the Time Lords came back. Bet you never saw that one coming, did you? Anyway, turns out they were too evil to have in the universe again, so they're locked back in the Time War now. No redemption. I'm alone again.

As I was dying, I went to see everyone. Mickey and Martha. Captain Jack. Sarah Jane. Donna. Others. Others you never met. And you, Rose. I went to see you. New Year's, 2005. I told you about it, remember? I went back to the TARDIS, and died thinking about you again.

Sentimental thing, aren't I?

Must be this new regeneration. I've been in it for two hundred years or so, but it still surprises me sometimes.

I was poisoned a little while ago, Rose. By that assassin River who keeps kissing me and winking at me. I should have died, Rose. But I appealed to her better nature and she gave up her regenerations to save my life.

Regenerations, you ask? Ah, yes. Time Lord DNA. Tricky stuff. Difficult to explain, really. Even I didn't fully understand it at the time.

Anyway, it's almost time. Tick tock goes the clock. Even for me, Rose. Even for me. I may travel through time. I may manipulate it, bend it a little. But at the end of the day, not even a Time Lord can control time.

When I was dying from the poison, Rose, the TARDIS brought up a hologram of you.

Like that New Year's, I still didn't cry. I just joked. Maybe I'm just too numb to feel emotion anymore. Maybe that'll be the downfall of me.

Too late now. I'll be dead this afternoon.

When I die, Rose, I want you to know something. By the time you read this, even though I know you never will, I'll be dead. But I just wanted you to know:

I was thinking of you.

By the lake, surrounded by those I love and maybe those I hate, I was – I will be – thinking of you. I always did, and I always will.

And, strange as it may sound, despite all the things going through this wretched skull of mine at the moment, that one promise – that one pledge – is the only thing getting me through this right now.

Your smile, the way your hair falls, your hand in mine, they make this almost bearable.

I will be thinking of you, Rose Tyler. As I breathe my last breath on the shores of Lake Silencio today, you'll be on my mind.

I won't say the words, because at this stage, with feelings as intense as these, those three overused words just aren't enough to describe us.

Forever,

For never,

_Your Doctor._

**R&R if you feel like! :D**_  
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